


Character Development

by gala_apples



Series: LARPverse [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Begging, Gen, Try-outs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint would do a lot of things to be allowed to join Tony and Pepper and Loki's roleplaying. Making a spectacle of himself is just a bonus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Character Development

Clint spots Pepper in the hall between second and third period. He thinks about it for all of five seconds before he splits from Natasha and rushes up to her. Pepper doesn’t stop. She doesn’t appear to even notice his presence. It’s the sort of cool pokerface that will make her either a CEO or a retail worker in the future. Clint’s banking on CEO though, because she and Tony are both classic Slytherin, ambition out the ass.

He neatly inserts himself between her and the three friends she’s walking with. “I want in.”

“Guys, gimme a second?”

The aforementioned guys accomplish this by continuing to walk down the hall as he and Pepper stand still. She crosses her arms. They’re freckled, and there’s a lighter band where a bracelet or watch would have been while she was in the sun. “Explain. What is it you want from me?”

“I read all of Creeping Ivy last night, and I know who I want to be.” Contrary to Tony’s accusations of illiteracy, Clint’s actually a fairly capable speed reader.

“Do you, now.”

“I want to show you.” 

Pepper just blinks, face placid, like she’s waiting for something in particular. Clint scrabbles in his brain before going old school and adding manners. Pepper’s got the whole wise beyond her years thing going on, and all the middle aged moms on TV would demand manners. “Please? Can I please show you?”

“Fine. Shasta doesn’t go here, but I’ll gather Tony and Loki. We’ll be in Mr Malkin’s science room at lunch.”

It’s sooner than Clint was expecting, but he can’t ask her for anything else. Pepper’s a beast when it comes to scheduling, or so Clint’s heard from Tony, and experienced the one time he had a group project with her in history. He asked for a chance, and this is the one he’s been given. She won’t give him another.

Clint has his binder zipped a full five minutes before the end of third period, and uses the ten minute transition time to the best of his ability. He sprints home -because no, they haven’t adopted him, but it’s been going so well, so much better than his first two placements that he’s not afraid to think of it as home- and runs up the stairs to his bedroom. He finished reading Creeping Ivy by eight, and the next four hours before lights out were spent creating his character’s costume. Clint might not know how to sew, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t creative. All of the items fit into a grocery bag, except for the obvious. 

Halfway down the stairs Clint remembers the last thing that came to mind before he fell asleep. He pivots and charges back upstairs to grab the Vaseline from the cabinet beside the sink. Then he sprints back to school and throws everything in his locker. His chest is heaving for breath when he crashes into his seat. He’s missed three minutes of fourth period, but he’s only marked late, not given detention. Clint can’t be given detention, the tutoring program takes precedence. That is, unless they think he’s taking advantage of the situation, and then he not only gets detention, he also gets his support revoked, which means probably failing.

Clint spends the first few minutes of the lunch hour getting ready. He exchanges jeans for shorts that he went at with a fishhook, and his t-shirt for a similarly damaged polo shirt. He smears some vaseline over his forehead to make himself look greasy and unwashed. He pulls out his gym shoes and puts one on, leaving his other street shoe on. A prop of ribbon and wire and plastic flowers Clint spent forever shaping last night coils up his right leg. He’s still not sure if he likes it, but he’s committing. He’s about to plead with Loki and Tony and Pepper, each immoveable objects in their own way, and each example of how much he wants this makes his force a little more unstoppable. He can always edit down his costume later.

The piece de resistance, what half his character is built on, is the quiver that goes over Clint’s back and the bow in his hand. Hopefully no teacher will think it’s a weapon he shouldn’t have and get higher authorities involved. To keep people from getting paranoid he doesn’t run with the weapon in hand, just walks calmly to Mr Malkin’s class.

Where Pepper and Loki and Tony are dressed completely normally.

All three of them are staring at him. Clint flushes hard. It was bad/good enough being stared at for the short walk from the bathroom to the classroom, but now the people who are supposed to understand are acting like Clint’s the crazy one. His heart sinks as his dick twitches. He respects the concept of YKINMK but at the same time wonders how Natasha likes getting hurt but doesn’t get a rush from this kind of thing. Clint doesn’t let himself shift from foot to foot, not wanting to risk the wire coming off his legs. Still, it’s a heady feeling, not knowing if he’s a moment away from being ridiculed.

“Who are you?” Tony asks finally.

“My name is Damien, and when The Shock hit I was at my parents’ country club, practicing archery. All around me the spell maintained lawn and arrangement started going wild. I grabbed as many arrows as I could and bolted.” Which makes the greenery up his leg make sense for now, but he’s going to have to remove it later. Damien wouldn’t let it cling forever. Of course, that concern only matters presuming they let Clint be a long term player.

“Damien? Really?”

Loki nods his agreement at Tony before looking back at him. “You can’t be Damien, that’s awful.”

“Why?”

“The devil’s name, in a post-apoc setting? You’re trying about a billion times too hard, Katniss.”

The scorn nearly makes him shiver. Maybe if he pushes just a little more... “It’s Damien. It’s not his parents fault there was an event that ruptured the world’s magic. And it’s better than a fantastical name like Albus or Glenmeadow.” He’s met with three sets of raised eyebrows, and in a perfect world he could run to the nearest bathroom stall and jerk off, but no, he can’t. Clint’s got more important priorities right now. He needs them to let him join. “Anyway, Damien has a Puna Stone.”

“Citing canon, huh. I like. And what one ability has been raised to impossible perfection?”

“Shooting, I’d assume?” Pepper chips in.

Clint shakes his head. “No. Fletching. He was already confident in his shooting ability, to catch strays for food and take down those that were a danger to him. But his supplies were low. With the Puna Stone a half a clothes hanger and a discarded bus pass will fly as straight and true as the shot that takes it.”

“Huh.”

And then it’s back to them staring, and Clint just wants to scream ‘how can I make you want me?’ except he can’t quite do it, he needs a push before those words actually come out of his mouth.

“What are you thinking?” 

The question sounds almost kind coming from Pepper, except it’s not, because she knows that people have to answer her. Even at seventeen she’s got an abnormal ability to make people fall to her will. But it’s fine, better than, because it’s Clint’s push.

“That I don’t know how to make you want to let me in.”

“Show us.”

“What?” It’s not a ‘no’ disguised as a question. He seriously doesn’t understand. He’s already in costume, explaining his character. What is there left to show?

“Show us how -and okay, Clint, your character has officially been renamed Clint because I seriously cannot with Damien My-Middle-Name-Is-Beelzebub McPreppyPants.”

Pepper smiles, interrupting. “He did the same when he found out our friend Shasta named her character Esmeralda.”

“Anyway, show us how Clint McPreppyPants hunts for food and pleasure, and maybe...”

Clint really does enjoy archery. He picked it up at foster parent one’s house. She was a stay at home, but he was a track and field coach. While Clint couldn’t agree that all problems could be solved with the assignment of laps, especially not his bisexuality, archery was a natural fit. The bow in his hands is well used. He looks around the room not sure of what to use as a target. Then Clint spots the lower shelves that ring the room, like wainscoting with biology textbooks. The shelves are full with the more expensive texts they only use in class that aren’t allowed to go home in backpacks.

This is a bad idea. He could get in such shit for this. He could get suspended for this. But it’s what they want, and he’s walking a fine highwire between pleasing them and making them laugh at him. If he says no or he flubs the shot they’ll sneer, and it’ll be good, but it’ll be nasty-good and they won’t be his friends. But if he makes it, he’ll have more than that. He’ll have people he likes, people he could call friends, that are willing to mock him in ways that Nat just can’t. Taking this shot is like begging please, and that’s the exact syllable on the tip of his tongue.

“The third book.” 

The arrow he lets fly matches his claim.

“Cool,” Loki says, and Pepper nods. 

Tony smirks. “Provisionally accepted. Now go stand in the hall and don’t come back in until you’ve thought of a name that doesn’t make me roll my eyes. Consider it stalking prey, if you’re all ready to play.”

“And if I agree to just be called Clint?” he asks as he retrieves his arrow from the spine of the textbook. The huge rip will be obvious enough, no need to leave extra clues.

Loki answers for the group. “Then you can just sit down and we’ll discuss how our characters meet you.”

Clint throws his arms up in the air. “Fine. Clint it is.”


End file.
